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Dance Cowboy Poems | Cowboy Poems About Dance

These Dance Cowboy poems are examples of Cowboy poems about Dance. These are the best examples of Dance Cowboy poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Lyric |

He Likes Ugly Girls

Baby, I see you starin' at him,
But you ought to give me whirl;
'Cause he's a handsome hunk,
But when he gets drunk...
Baby, he likes ugly girls.

Yeah, he still lives with his Momma
Even tho' he's 33.
She starches and irons his jeans and shirts,
And he brings home new recipes.

She's told him he's good lookin',
And there's no doubt it's true;
But when he takes home a pretty woman,
Momma says, "Son, she won't be true."

She says, "Son, if you want good lovin',
A plain and homely gal will provide.
She'll treat you right, mornin' and night;
And keep you satisfied."

So baby, you can stare at him, 
But you ought to give me a whirl;
'Cause he's a handsome hunk, 
But when he gets drunk....
Baby, he likes ugly girls.

You don't stand a chance.
That boy loves his Momma.

Yeah, he goes for ugly girls.


Details | Lyric |

Tequila In My Boot An A Lime In My Pocket

In a couple of hours
 another town we'll be stoppin.
  At a big ole country bar
   where we can get the people rockin.
    At least until two
     I know that place will be hoppin.

So I've got tequila in my boot, an a lime in my pocket.

Once those country boys
 start drinking shots, their ain't no stoppin.
  An those nice ole country girls
   get out an dance, we'll be hoppin.
    I know at least until two
     That this big ole bar will be rocking.

So I've got tequila in my boot, an a lime in my pocket.

It's been a couple of hours
 an no one wants the music stoppin.
  At this big ole country bar
   everybody wants to keep a rockin.
    But it's almost now two
     an everybody is still a hoppin.

Going to have to get more tequila for my boot, an another lime for my pocket.

Soon the bar will be closin
 cause after this song we'll be stoppin.
  We had ourselves a good time
   as we kept the people rockin.
    With all the tequila that I drank
     I don't know if I, can continue hoppin.

I guess that's what is due, when ya putting tequila your boot, an a lime in your pocket.



Danny Boy:9-27-13   ©
Contest Name: Another Song Lyric Contest
By Anne Currin 


Details | Rhyme |

Country Craziness

Getting rowdy--really loud
Hanging with your country crowd
Having fun with lots of laughter
Nothing seems to really matter
Watching sports and swigging bears
All your troubles disappear
Jukebox playing favorite songs
You can dance to all night long
Cowboy hats--Tight fitting jeans
This is such a sexy scene
Hearing yee-haw and y'all
In a southern country drawl
Dresses twirling on the floor
Dancing like never before
Bull riding and betting on
Who will fall off--just for fun
Red solo cups across the bar
Drunken voices yell yee-haw
Some workdays---every weekend
This enjoyment never ends
Through the warm, cold and hot weather
Family and friends get together
For some harmless fun that lasts
Always having such a blast


Details | Couplet |

Girls Night Out

It's the girls night out
 at the local country bar.
This time we'll have to try
 not to go too far.

We'll have no more 
than seven shooters each,
And no more standing on the table 
giving a slightly slurred speech.

On with our cowboy boots 
and skirts a bit too short
To entice a dance partner,
 a cowboy is a good sport.

We'll try and talk the band 
into playing our favourite tune
And sing along like coyotes 
howling at the moon.

We'll dance a few, and sing a few, 
then maybe a few more.
We won't start a fight like Friday night 
and get escorted to the door.

It's all in fun, we're just kids at heart, 
going out to play.
It's time to unwind and let down our hair,
 after all we've worked all day.

There's karaoke and two-stepping 
and flirting with the guys
And telling stories, some of them true,
 most of them little white lies.

We don't do this nearly enough,
 at least that's what we think.
So here's to us, the local cowgirls, 
now would someone buy us a drink.


Details | Cowboy |

Muck Dance Ballet

(French terms to know: arabesque (ar-a-besk) stand on one leg, other leg extended back
with knee straight, arms out; pirouette (peer-oo-et) a full turn of the body on the top of
the toe or the ball of the foot; releve' (rel-vay) rise up from the whole foot onto the
ball of the foot; demi plie' (dem-ee plee-ay) half bend of the knees; port de bras
(por-de-bra) continual movement of the arms through a series of positions; fouette
(foo-ay-tay) series of turns on one leg, the other leg extending rapidly to side and
whipping around body; glissade (glee-sade) a connecting sliding step

When corrals turn to mush
and all dirt roads are slush,
springtime has arrived at our place.
The challenge begins
since I'm sans webs or fins
to walk outside with upright grace.

I don my galoshes
and cov'ralls that washes
to feed stock that wait in the lots.
By the time I return
I will honestly earn
my decor of brown and green spots.

As I step in the slop,
my galoshes do flop,
as ankle-deep mud gets a grip.
In slow forward motion
I ease through this potion,
resisting the muck's pull to slip.

I feed several hay bales
and balance two grain pails,
while working my way through the soup.
But before I am through
I'll lose one boot or two
from suction of that muddy goop.

THWOOP!

My foot's poised in the air
as I (gasp) balance up there.
I execute an arabesque,
a slow pirouette
so I shan't get all wet.
What I need is a chair or a desk!

My predicament here
since my boot is so near
is to turn it around in the slop.
My balance must hold
while my foot's in this mold
and fearing my body will drop.

A controlled releve'    
and demi plie'
are more than my posture can stand.
A wild port de bras
while I desperately claw
finds me catching the ground with my hand.

I snap a fouette'
and turn the other way.
I manage a slippery glissade.
For it's not every day
you see Muck Dance Ballet--
just when ankle deep mud makes you wade.

Copyright Terry Henderson
terryhenderson.net


Details | Cowboy |

A DANCER SO GRAND

A BAND AND A DANCER SO GRAND

“Shall we dance?” the lady asked ever so politely
And oh how the lady danced ever so lightly
It was as if she  \hovered an inch above the floor
And I never enjoyed dancing with a partner more

I begged the band to belabor the point
For it was the music the woman would anoint
She baptized the band as sanctified oil
And to the lady my soul became loyal

She took to the tile, a temptress, my muse
And when she asked for more no man could refuse
The brass played with class and the flute wasn’t mute
And her elegance was a fact God Himself could not refute

Mine eyes beheld the majestic majesty of grace
And simply holding her caused my heart to race
She dance me into a dream of loveliness and lace
Whilst the band grew jealous of  what was in my embrace

Her gracefulness begot beauty and grandeur so bright
While the vocalist sang a song about undying delight
But then I heard four words that dimmed every light
When the M.C. announced the final dance of the night
   DOES THIS MAKE ANYONE BESIDES ME WANT TO PUKE?
               © 2011.…..Phreepoetree  ~free cee!~


Details | Free verse |

Country Field

I wanna go shoot some beer cans,
light up the night,and drink the moon’s shine. 
I wanna see you twirl, in that summer dress
kiss your neck, while headlights burn through my heart. 
Fireflies’ll get dizzy when we dance between their flurry,
We’ll fall on grandma’s quilt and stare at the stars.
It can be so bright in a country field,
when it’s not so lonely…
And your smile, is bringin’ me home. 
Those muddy tracks were worth it;
got us stuck in each other’s arms. 
You’ve got me thinkin’… 
That a city girl, with a country heart
ain’t so bad.. 
You got me thinkin’..
that the sun might rise…
and I won’t even notice..
cos’ your starlight is just 
as bright, as any blue eyed country 
sky, I’ve ever seen. 
So, lets pour a little more 
moonshine in these cups, 
and dance til’ tomorrow. 
We’ll worry bout’ gettin’ home
when the day comes a-knockin’..
but I don’t wanna think about anything else,
but the smile pressed against my cheek. 
This country field is heaven,
and you’re the Angel ridin’ shotgun. 
Holdin’ me still, on this buck-wild 
adventure….
makin’ me feel like bein a cowboy
ain’t bein’ lost.. 
Like bein’ in this field, 
is bein’ at home,
your arms…
the rest that I’ve been looking for. 
This field, the home, I’ve always had…
but never thought, I was searchin’ for.. 
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Cowboy |

A Teardrop Away

I hear a hawk cry to its mate
Takes me back before "too late"
Lonesome lyric desert wind
Sings me into your arms again

How I wish that it could be
not just a dream but flesh & blood reality 
Gone but not forgotten, you will always be
just a teardrop away in my fondest memory

The whisper of the wind brings you back again
to dance among the shadows of my heart 
Thunder echoing down the hills
I hear your voice so close it chills

Lightening dances cross the sky
recalls the laughter in your eyes
Suddenly we're once again
Dizzy dancing in the rain 

Gone but not forgotten, you will always be
just a teardrop away in my fondest memory
The whisper of the wind brings you back again
to dance among the shadows of my heart 

Gone so swiftly without goodbyes
but I know true love never dies
As I kneel at this headstone
I know I will never walk alone

For you'll always live within my heart
guiding me from the deepest part 
Gone but not forgotten, you will always be
just a teardrop away in my fondest memory

The whisper of the wind brings you back again
to dance among the shadows of my heart

(c) January 2002


Details | Rhyme |

A June Night in Rotgut Saloon

A June Night in Rotgut Saloon


In walked Lefty Red behind him lay many dead
into this old dusty town his tired horse had tread
Well known his draw was quick as lightning 
his stare deadly cold and so very frightening

Stranger where is the nearest watering hole
getting drunk and riled up is my goal
Ahead 120 paces is our old Rotgut saloon
enter there and you'll get your wish soon

Lefty Red , cold, bitter and as hard as granite
entered and saw a scene like he had planned it
Crowd was loud, rowdy as hell and so very drunk
beer and whiskey flowing , an odor foully stunk

Give me a beer and two shots of your best redeye
send over that sweet blonde philly that I spy
Barkeep did exactly as he was very sternly told
That philly's man was none other than Billy Cold

Billy Cold that had 7 carved notches on his gun
even once cut a man slowly to death just for fun
The stare sent a hard and well understood reply
want this har' woman , get her , jest you try

Lefty Red knocked down whiskey shots and his beer
spun around to show a fastdraw rig , he had no fear
Billy wasted not a second to make his best play
drawed his 45 to make that insulting Lefty Red pay

As his hammer was so very quickly cocked back
his ears heard a loud booming pistol crack
A huge hole suddenly tore open in his chest
a mistake, for Lefty Red was always the very best

Body was calmly , swiftly and carefully taken away
nothing new, this was like just about any other day
Lefty told the piano man to shut up and play a tune
time for the pretty saloon girl and getting drunk soon

Townfolks remember so very well that hot June day
Lefty Red had tested Billy Cold and made him pay
Forty-five slug and justice had caught up with that man
as Lefty Red had for seven, long searching years planned

 07-08-2014


Details | Cowboy |

Paying the Fiddler

I was nineteen that summer
  when I met him at a buck-out,
  and I was totally smitten
  by all the Cowboy charm he had.

I thought that he was rugged,
  (and undeniably handsome),
  then that bull slammed against the fence
  and busted him up pretty bad.

I was surprised when he showed up at the dance,
  he was battered and bruised but smiling,
  and I heard him talking and laughing,
  still high from the rush of the ride.

He said “You gotta’ pay the fiddler
  if you want to dance to his tune”,
  then he drifted across the floor,
  said “Let’s dance” as he reached my side.

Mama told me I’d be sorry
  if I ignored her and took up with him,
  and I really hate to say it, 
  but I guess that she was right.

But when I review my memories
  I know I’d do it all again,
  for that “Eight Second Feeling”
  of our first long kiss that night.

We used to dance for hours,
  in the kitchen and on the porch
  and laugh about owein’ that fiddler
  and what his pay would be.

But lately there ain’t been no dancin’,
  just long strings of awkward silence,
  as his eyes look far and distant
  and not so much at me.

Seems his spirit has grown uneasy,
  as I listen to him talking
  and realize it’s still Rodeo
  that truly holds his heart.

Oh, I don’t mind coming in second,
  heck, life is like that sometimes.
  But knowing I’m invisible,
  well, that’s the hardest part.
 
I suppose I should be angry,
  but I just can’t find it in me,
  ‘cause I know what it’s like
  to love something just that way.

I felt it when I first saw him,
  in the arena and on the dance floor
  and I still feel it sometimes
  when I watch him walk away.

I’ve helped him struggle to pay the fiddler,
  and it breaks my heart to see him weary, 
  so I stand in silent acceptance,
  as I watch him pack his things.

I understand his leaving,
  I know he won’t be coming back here,
  our life together, a lesson,
  one that time always seems to bring.

I walk out past the horse pens,
  pull the gate shut…and I lock it,
  hear my mare start to nicker
  as the trailer pulls away.

I’d like to say I’ll miss him,
  his past still holds my heart.
  But we danced to the fiddler’s tune
  and the final payment came due today.


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